Young Galahad and the Dark Faerie
by ghodges137
Summary: The 10-year-old son of Sir Lancelot is sent away to live with an old witch and must complete a harrowing quest to save his ailing mother.
1. Chapter 1 - An Old Man's Story

DISCLAIMERS: This is a fan-fiction based on the TV Mini-Series "Merlin (1998)". I don't have any official rights to the stories or characters as they are imagined in the show – I am just shamelessly borrowing them to write this story.

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Young Galahad and the Dark Faerie

Rating: T (violence, coarse language, minors wearing loincloths, etc.)

Synopsis: The 10-year-old son of Sir Lancelot is sent away to live with an old witch and must complete a harrowing quest to save his ailing mother.

Genre: Fantasy, Adventure

by: G. Hodges (November 2016-June 2017)

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I was approached by Professor Seele back in the Summer of 2016 with a request to write a short fan fiction based on a supporting character from the 1990s TV series Merlin. We had some discussion and passed back and forth a manuscript over the course of a year that eventually became the story below. I hope you enjoy the fruits of our extended labors to put this together.

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CHAPTER 1 – AN OLD MAN'S STORY

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 _Old Man Merlin sat down in his favorite spot in the village, as he always did, and was welcomed by his fandom – a crowd of children._

 _"Tell us another story, Merlin!" they'd cry. Like every day before, today was no exception – they wanted to hear one of Merlin's great tales of chivalry from the old days._

 _"Alright, alright," Merlin responded to quell the excited children. "Did I tell you the story of how King Arthur came to own Excalibur?"_

 _The kids nodded, disappointed. "Tell us a different story!" they chanted, hoping to coax the old storyteller to give them something new for a change._

 _The old man relented to his beloved audience. "Alright, something different this time. Hmm." He scratches his chin and strokes his white beard to think for a moment. His eyes light up. "Ah. Did I ever tell you the story of Sir Lancelot's son, Sir Galahad, and how he had to bargain with a Dark Faerie to spare his mother's life?"_

 _The children shook their heads._

 _"Well then, where to begin? Did you know that Sir Galahad was just a boy when his father, Sir Lancelot, was called to service in King Arthur's circle of knights? Why he was hardly more than your age, I suppose." Merlin gestures to a boy beside him who couldn't have been more than 10 to 12 years of age._

 _"Yes. As a matter of fact, soon after his father left, Young Galahad was sent to go live with a relative of one of his family's servants in this very valley, a Godmother of sorts – Auntie was her name. She was an old lady who knew the Old Ways, much like the Auntie I lived with when I was a boy. He was a good and amiable lad – he helped out with gathering wood, tending the gardens, buying supplies, and never complained when his Auntie had chores for him to do. And, in return, his Auntie was kind and nurturing and loved the young Galahad like the son she could never have. Young Galahad lived a simple but happy life in the valley." Merlin paused for a moment, and saw his audience was slowly becoming rapted into the story. He smiled, and continued._

 _"But, it wasn't long before trouble began for young Galahad..."_

It is just after dawn in the old village. Auntie is still cooking a tasty potato stew as Galahad finishes his morning chores. He is offering to buy a loaf of bread from Baker Tomas when he heard the news.

"My poor boy," the baker started, putting his worn hat to his chest. "A traveler just gave me word of your dear mother just yesterday. Lady Elaine of Astolat has taken ill, and she is not expected to last a fortnight. I am so sorry to be the first to bring you the news." The baker hands a stunned Galahad two loves of bread instead of one. "Here, my lad. Please take them both as a gift – and offer one to the Spirits of the Wood for your mother's health to return."

The boy, Galahad, thanks the kind baker and runs home to see Auntie. Auntie is a kind old woman, as wise and knowledgeable as she is powerful in the Old Ways. She was a Wiccan and an accomplished sorceress, and was asked by Lady Elaine to look after and train her son in the Old Ways. Now, young Galahad is more like a son to her, so young Galahad wanted for nothing as he lived in her humble household.

But today, it is not a quiet morning. Galahad rushes home and explains through tears the news of his mother.

"Auntie!" Galahad cries as he explodes into the tiny home. "My mother – Baker Tomas tells me she is ill and dying!"

Auntie gasps, then collects herself. She calms the boy, takes the loves of bread from his trembling grip, and together they seek to find answers.

"Let us see what is wrong with your mother, my dear," Auntie says to soothe Galahad. She goes to prepare her magic cauldron, and in moments whips up a magical spell of divination to see his mother. Galahad strains to see the images reflected in the pool of dark water, but they are clear enough to show that they are peering into his mother's bed chambers, and he can see (and hear) his mother's raspy cough. He instinctively tries to call out to his mother, but she cannot hear or see him. Auntie puts a warm, soothing hand on young Galahad's shoulder to comfort him.

They see a servant come into the lady's bed chamber and offers her a warm broth. Lady Elaine takes the broth and drinks, but coughs in a terrible fit and spills the bowl with its contents onto the floor. The servant quickly cleans the mess and shakes her head with concern as she leaves her mistress to rest.

Galahad cries out again, "Mother!" Auntie takes his hand, and the young boy sniffles back tears as he rubs his nose. Auntie can see that the news is true, and ends the spell for Galahad's sake.

The image fades, and the boy and the old wiccan are once again alone in the dark of the small home. Auntie turns to face Galahad.

"She is alive, my dear – and that means we still have hope. There may be one who can help us, but it will be very dangerous. Are you ready to risk your life to save your mother?"

Galahad nods, and wipes away fresh tears from his face.

Auntie hands Galahad a gold coin – a rare and expensive one with the head of some bygone Caesar printed on one side. "Take this coin, my dear, and go to the old well behind the town. It is the one at the base of the big hill. Toss it in, and make a wish to the Dark Faerie to cure your mother. He may demand one favor in return – if so, you must fulfill it exactly as he says. Do you understand?"

Galahad nods again and accepts the coin, remembering the legends of the old well the other townsfolk had told him. It is dry and haunted – no one uses it anymore. There are stories of boys and girls trying to find gold coins in the well, only to disappear forever. Some say that they can hear screams echoing from the bottom of the well when the wind blows, but others say they are just stories to keep kids from playing around the well. Galahad has never ventured out to the well, but he sees that he has no other choice now. He gathers his cloak and prepares to walk to the far side of town and face his destiny.

Auntie gives her favorite boy a peck on the cheek. "May the spirits of the forest guide you and protect you, my fair young warrior." She watches as young Galahad leaves and walks the path towards town, and quietly prays to the forest for his safe return and victory in his first of many quests.

It is still dawn as Galahad reaches the old well. As people have said, it is indeed a dry and broken-down well, but is otherwise plain and seems abandoned. He approaches without hesitation, and speaks. "Dark Faerie, hear my wish! I wish that my mother, Lady Elaine of Astolat, be rid of her sickness and become well again." After a moment's silence, he flicks the coin into the well and waits.

In only a few seconds, there is a voice calling from within the well, and a shadow arises and takes the shape of a twisted-looking feyfolk. It is the Dark Faerie.

"Well, well – finally, after such a long time. How nice it is that the Dark Faerie is never truly forgotten when trouble is about." The Dark Faerie looks up and down at young Galahad, and smiles as he notices that the boy is not afraid. "So, do you want me to make your old mum well again?"

"Yes, please," Galahad replies. "That is my wish."

The Dark Faerie nods, then smiles broadly. "Of course – I am bound by the spell that keeps me here to grant any wish that is accompanied by a gold coin. But, I am allowed to ask for one favor in return for granting your wishes. And this wish..." The Dark Faerie starts to look past Galahad and puts on a conniving sneer. "This one will take some effort on your part."

The Dark Faerie produces a small piece of cloth and a large seed from his clothes and presents them to Galahad. "You will need these. Scale the hill behind me, and plant the seed in the spring high above at the top of the hill. There is a magic spring up there that can make any seed grow instantly. Return the flower that this seed makes and plant it beside my well before the sun rises again and your wish will be fulfilled."

Galahad commits the instructions to memory, and nods. He takes the cloth and the seed and starts to turn to go up the hill.

"Oh no you don't," the Dark Faerie interrupts. "You must leave everything you have here – you can only take the items I have given you. Nothing else."

Galahad looks at the small cloth, and realizes it is just big enough to cover his loins. He stares back at the Dark Faerie in disbelief. "Do you mean that I have to strip to nothing and wear just this small cloth?"

The Dark Faerie smiles as he looks at his dark and dirty fingernails. "Yes, that's about right." He smiles as he changes his focus to Galahad's incredulous expression on his face. "That's magic for you – if you want your mother to get better..."

Galahad relents and undresses, and is soon wearing the loincloth. The seed is in his left hand, and he finally begins to turn to the hill and starts to walk what may be an old pathway up the hillside.

"Good lad," the Dark Faerie calls out to the boy as he walks away, shivering from the cold morning breeze. "And remember, you have to plant the flower here at the base of the well before the sun rises tomorrow. If you fail, your mother will die, and your soul will be mine to add to the lovely collection I have down here."

The Dark Faerie starts to chuckle and laugh as Galahad sees that the Dark Faerie has tricked him into a difficult quest. He steadies his nerves and resumes his trek to the top of the hill.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Elf and Her Lunch

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CHAPTER 2 – THE ELF AND HER LUNCH

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It is still only mid-morning and already Galahad is nearly at the top of the hill. He finds that there is a mountain stream running parallel to his path – all he needs to do now is follow it to its source at the top and plant the seed. He starts to feel a sense of relief that his quest may not be so arduous as the Dark Faerie had implied.

Just then, he hears a lilting voice call out. Perhaps to him. He stops to listen for it again.

"You there! Boy! Please stop! I am in need of some assistance!"

Galahad was many things, but most of all he was chivalrous. Whenever someone called out to him in a genuine need for help, he always heard the call and would respond. Today was no different, quest or no quest. He turns to his left and approaches the sound past some trees into a nearby clearing.

Galahad finds himself in the presence of a young Elf with a face wet with tears. The Elf dries her tears, and looks askew at the human who answered her call. Her face turns a tad redder as the human boy approaches. With all the manners of a budding knight, the young Galahad bows and introduces himself. "Don't cry, Elf. My name is Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot, knight of The Round Table, and I am here to answer your call for help."

The Elf composes herself. "It has been many years since I last saw a human, but… I always thought your kind were a little more – modest. But I will not be one to judge." She looks up and down at Galahad, his solid form quite visible, and his pale skin dotted with mud. She can see that he is barely a strong wind away from being naked. She decides to look away, then a moment later decides not.

"You said you were in need of help?" Galahad repeats himself, trying to draw attention away from his (lack of) attire.

She nods, resuming her face of grief. "Yes – my lunch! My lunch has been stolen!"

Galahad takes a moment to consider the situation. "By whom? Can't we just get it back?"

The Elf shakes her head vehemently. "Oh no. It was taken by a Troll – the one that lives in the cave just over there." The Elf points to a hole in a nearby cliffside at the far end of the clearing.

Galahad takes a deep breath. He considers his options, and then snaps a twig from a nearby tree and walks towards the cave. "I have an idea," he says to the Elf as he walks. "I know that trolls can be greedy, and are not too bright. I also know they can be cowardly – perhaps I can bargain with it for your lunch."

The Elf shudders. "Oh, don't do that! Trolls are mean, and it may get angry and kill you. Don't you have a sword or something, oh child of a knight of The Round Table?"

Galahad shakes his head. "No, I have only my wits. Perhaps it may be enough."

The Elf runs to hide as Galahad soon reaches the entrance to the cave. He takes a deep breath, grips the seed in his left hand and the leafy twig in his right, and walks into the cave.

He soon happens upon the Troll – a stumpy being hardly as tall as Galahad, and catches him poking at the basket like he is unsure if it is safe. He is startled and whirls about, pointing a small blade towards Galahad. Galahad simply stops and introduces himself once again.

"Greetings, Troll. My name is Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot – may I ask, what do you have there?"

"It is me lunch," the Troll gruffs back at the boy. "Git away or else I'll cut ye." The Troll sneers at the human, and steals a glance at the twig in the human boy's hand.

Galahad slowly brings the twig to his lips, and takes a bite of one of the leaves and chews it while meeting the gaze of the Troll. Then he slowly responds. "I hear you stole it from an Elf. Do you enjoy eating elven food that much?"

The Troll looks at the basket, then at Galahad again. He stares at the nearly naked boy and is surprised to see him take a second bite from the leaves on the twig. Trolls are not known for their smarts nor their kindness, so as Galahad predicted it betrays an ignorant sense of greed and curiosity.

"What kind of devil has possessed ye, boy? What manner of tree are ye eatin'?"

"This is _my_ lunch," Galahad responds back, then takes a third bite from a leaf on the twig. "And you can have none of it. It is mine."

The Troll stares at the boy and the twig for a time, upset at the terse response from the human boy, then licks his lips as he finally decides how to take the boy's show of defiance. "No," the Troll says back to Galahad. "That lunch should be mine. Give it to me!"

Galahad takes a step back and assumes a defensive posture. "In all my life, no one has ever taken my food from me. Not without a fight – for I am the son of Sir Lancelot, knight of the Round Table, so be warned that I am a trained fighter." He can see that the Troll is starting to look unsure of himself, so he continues. "But, I am willing to make a trade. My lunch for the basket – what do you say? Do you accept?"

The Troll looks at the basket, then at the twig with several bright green leaves still on it. He considers the option of just taking the twig, but he thinks carefully about the warning. Unlike the Elf, Galahad is the child of a famous and formidable warrior, so the Troll fears Galahad may put up a fight and hurt him. He also considers trading, but then he wouldn't have the basket anymore. He struggles to decide, then accepts the bargain. Better safe than sorry, the Troll thinks to himself.

"Fine!" The Troll barks out. "We'll trade. Besides, I can't stand the taste of elven food. It smells of flowers – disgusting!" The Troll approaches, cautiously, and Galahad slowly relaxes his stance just enough to allay the fear that the Troll can't hide from its eyes.

They trade, then Galahad turns to leave the cave with the basket in hand. He smiles to himself that the Troll have given up the stolen lunch without a fight, for he knew the Troll was only interested in taking what was cherished by others. The Troll looks at the leafy twig, still trying to figure out why the son of Sir Lancelot would be eating leaves for lunch. As the Troll tries to speak up to ask, he finds that the human boy has already left the cave. He stops from going after him – better safe than sorry, the Troll thinks again to himself. He takes a bite from a leaf on the twig, unsure if he has been tricked, but too afraid to chase after the boy in the end.

Galahad emerges from the cave into bright sunlight. It is noontime, and the young boy is starting to get genuinely hungry. He can smell the fresh bread and cake from inside the basket along with the natural aroma of wild flowers – staples in the diet of Elves – and he can feel the hunger well up inside him. But, Galahad is a gentleman, so he refrains from poking into the basket.

Galahad soon finds the Elf, still cowering near a tree. The Elf's eyes light up with joy as she sees the brave human return her precious lunch back to her. She betrays a stance of utter glee as she dances around and gracefully accepts the basket from young Galahad's hands.

"Hooray for us!" the Elf shouts out as she cradles her basket of food. "My lunch! Oh, you are ever the child of Sir Lancelot, young Galahad! However can I ever repay you for your kindness? Perhaps a fresh pair of breeches?"

Galahad smiles and shakes his head. "Thank you, but no reward is necessary." Galahad looks back towards the cave entrance to make sure he wasn't followed by a cross Troll. "I think you should eat it somewhere far from the cave before the Troll realizes the error of his decision." Galahad collects himself to return to his quest, but not before his stomach makes a growling noise.

The Elf laughs and hugs Galahad. "Alright," she responds. "But, I must share my lunch with you. You must be hungry – let me split my lunch with you as a token of my appreciation."

Young Galahad smiles and nods, and together they travel a small ways to the stream Galahad was following. There is a fallen log just into the shade of a nearby oak tree, perfect for two to sit and enjoy a basket of food. Galahad welcomes the Elf to sit, but has nothing to offer to drape over the log. The Elf, being a spirit of the woodlands, sits happily anyways just as she casts a little spell to clear the log of dirt and filth. Galahad soon joins her, and without a moment's hesitation the Elf cracks open her basket and starts to split a loaf of aromatic bread to share with her champion.

Galahad takes the bread and thanks her, then asks a question before he takes a bite. "I am curious to ask – who should I thank for making such a delicious bread?"

The Elf nods. "My mother made this lunch for me to enjoy while I enjoyed the forest. As you can tell, she is a wonderful cook."

"Indeed," Galahad replies as he readies to take a a bite. "My thanks to your mother." And with that, Galahad takes his first of many bites. He has never eaten Elven food, but it is rich and full of flavor, so he finds the experience very pleasant. Together, the boy and the Elf talk and enjoy the small feast of bread and cake, baked fresh by the Elf's mother.

After a brief stay and a few drinks of water to wash down their lunch, Galahad gets up and says his goodbye. As much as his respite has been fulfilling he knows he must return to the trail to finish his ascent of the hill and finish his quest.

"I hope you are successful in your quest, young Galahad," the Elf says as she finishes to pack her basket and prepares to return to her home in the forest.

Galahad nods, and thanks her for her kindness. As they part, young Galahad turns to trudge up the hill. The Elf takes a moment to look back at the kind human. She gives a simple prayer that the spirits of the woods show mercy upon him and his mother. One thing the Elf knows that the human boy may not, is that the spirits of the woods are always watching, and no act of kindness and cruelty is overlooked when the time of judgment comes.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Spring & The WaterSprite

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CHAPTER 3 – THE SPRING AND THE WATER SPRITE

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It is early in the afternoon as Galahad finally reaches a grove at the top of the hill. The sun is starting to cast longer shadows as Galahad steps into the clearing. He takes a moment to look at the view of the valley, a large span of land carved in between the hilltops by an ancient river that has been his new home for only a short time since his father left to join the Knights of the Round Table. Young Galahad has a moment of wonder and sadness as he thinks of his poor, dear mother and how she must be suffering. He bears no ill will to his parents – it is an honor to serve the King, and young Galahad understands that he has a duty to learn the ways of manhood even if his father is away.

He nods to himself, his resolve renewed, and strides farther into the clearing. He soon finds himself at the source of the stream. It is a humble spring, burbling out water in the middle of a small shallow pond, and it is surrounded by beautiful flowers. He looks around, but finds no one in sight. This must be a wild spring, guarded only by the forces of Mother Nature herself, the boy thinks to himself. After a moment of quiet to show respect for the bounty of the forest, Galahad smiles with some relief at finally making the journey and approaches the spring to prepare to plant the seed.

Suddenly, the quiet of the grove is shattered by a sharp cry. "Stop!" the voice cries out. "How dare you try to touch my spring!"

Galahad looks about him, taken off-guard at the sudden appearance of a voice. He looks around, but see no one. Galahad called out to it. "Hello?" He takes a step to the left, then to the right, trying to gaze across the pond for the figure of a person.

"What are you doing!?" The voice calls out, more angry than before. "I'm right here! In front of you! How rude..."

"You are?" Galahad looks to his left and right again, and starts to pace about. "Are you invisible? I am sorry but I do not see you, whoever you are."

The voice calls out again, almost screaming. "Watch it! You almost stepped on me!" The voice gets frustrated and it continues to heckle the clueless human boy. "I'm right down here!"

Galahad suddenly stops in his tracks, and looks directly down towards his feet. He realizes that there is a tiny, beautiful Water Sprite sitting on a mushroom just near his right foot, no taller than the palm of his hand. She is clad in clothes made from river weeds, and her skin is blue and shimmers like a clear river on a summer's day.

Not sure what else to do, Galahad bows to the Water Sprite, and addresses her. "Lady Water Sprite, please forgive my rudeness. My name is Galahad, and I am on a quest to save my mother's life. May I please plant this seed in the dirt near your spring, so that I may return with a flower to plant at the well down at the bottom of the hill?"

The Water Sprite ponders for a minute, then responds. "Apology accepted. It is not often that your kind venture this far into the woods, and you are still young. So I will overlook your clumsiness." She says nothing of Galahad's clothes or what she has been able to witness with her unique vantage point. Some things are just better left unsaid, she thinks to herself.

She clears her throat, and gets to addressing Galahad's request. "You are correct that my spring possesses the ability to allow seeds to grow to maturity instantly when they are planted in dirt soaked with their waters. But, such magic is never given freely nor without some kind of price paid in exchange for its wonders. What do you have that you can exchange for the powers in the spring?"

Galahad sighs – another trade. He looks about him, and realizes he has only one thing he can offer. "I carry very little – can I exchange it for a favor?"

The Water Sprite chuckles to herself, unable to resist a snide remark. "That you have little is obvious – is it not cold for you?"

Galahad says nothing, knowing that the Water Sprite is making fun of his clothing, or lack thereof.

The Water Sprite hops off of the mushroom, then with a wave of her hands becomes full size, as tall as a grown woman, and a head taller than young Galahad.

"I am sorry, but I must ask for something in your possession. Since you cannot give up the seed, I can only exchange the powers of the spring for your life. For your seed is dead, and in Nature only Life can beget Life. I will let you plant your seed, but I must kill you and let your blood restore the seed to life so it may grow into a flower. By taking your life, not only will I fulfill the demands of the spring for a trade but will also use your life to restore the seed as well. This is as much as I can do, or else you have come here in vain, young Galahad."

Galahad takes a moment to let the revelation sink in. "My seed is dead? How?" Galahad looks at the small bulb in his hands and started to feel grief at the reality before him. He had been betrayed by the Dark Faerie after all!

Galahad finally makes peace with the situation and resolves himself to his fate. "Then, oh Water Sprite, I only ask that you return and plant the flower by the old well at the base of the hill for me once my life has ended and the revived plant has grown and blossomed. If you can do this, then I will accept your exchange with a full and committed heart."

The Water Sprite was amazed at the bravery of the boy. "Then let it be done," she says as she waves her hands again. Water vines crawl out of the pond and wrap themselves around Galahad and pull him into the shallow pond. The Water Sprite takes the seed and plants it into the mud beside him, and produces a long dagger.

"Let the blood of this boy bring Life back to this seed, oh Pond," the Water Sprite says. "And may his last wishes be fulfilled. So be it." Both young Galahad and the Water Sprite close their eyes, determined to see their contracts through but aghast at the means the magic requires. Galahad can only think of his mother's face as the Water Sprite thrusts down her dagger to pierce the pure heart of young Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot, knight of the Round Table, and son of Lady Elaine of Astolat.

But, as the Water Sprite tries to plunge the dagger into the chest of the boy, the blade breaks at the hilt! Dumbfounded, the Water Sprite opens her eyes and looks to the waters of the pond. Her eyes can see what the water has seen and witnessed – the deal with the Dark Faerie, the bravery with the Troll, and the chivalry with the Elf – and can see that it is the pure power of the spring that saved Galahad. The water has been witness to Galahad's pure heart, and so it refused to accept the trade. The Water Sprite sighs and nods to the water's will, and helps the boy back to his feet. As Galahad shakes off the cold fresh water of the pond from the goosebumps on his skin, the Water Sprite collects the dead seed from the mud at the bottom of the pond.

"Young Galahad, I see now that you are truly a boy of pure heart. The magic of the spring will not allow me to take your life, so I am sorry I cannot grant your request. But, I will grant you another wish – name it, and I shall do all within my power to fulfill it." She hands over the dead seed in a clump of wet dirt and returns it to Galahad. Galahad takes it again, this time wet and buried inside a clump of fresh earth.

Galahad thanks the Water Sprite, but looks sad at the clump of dirt. He takes a moment to ponder the Water Sprite's offer, then opens his thoughts to her. "If I wished you to make my mother well, I will still have to complete my quest for the Dark Faerie, am I right?"

"Yes, young Galahad," the Water Sprite replies. "But, as much as that may help your mother, your fate would be worse than if you had simply died here. Eternal imprisonment in the Dark Faerie's well is a horrible fate, and I fear your mother may expire at the thought of it. If there is any other way to save your mother, you must take that other option instead."

Galahad nods in agreement. "And of course, if I wish that you restore life to this seed yourself and make it grow into a flower, you still could not – am I right?"

"Yes," the Water Sprite replies. "That is simply beyond my power to give – not without ending my own life to restore life to the seed. I am needed here to guard the magic spring, so not even my own life is a life I own enough to freely give – I am sorry, young Galahad."

Galahad takes a moment to look at the setting sun, and he ponders his predicament. After a short time, he turns to face the Water Sprite. "May I ask then – can I wish for a gold coin instead?"

The Water Sprite seems curious, but answers truthfully. "Yes, Galahad – I can grant you that wish. But I fail to see why-"

"Then that is my wish, oh Water Sprite!" Galahad interrupts, pleading to the the feyfolk.

The Water Sprite waves her hands, and with a puff of smoke she produces a shiny gold coin from her hands. She puts it in Galahad's other palm. Galahad takes a moment to gaze at the coin – it is by far the shiniest and best made coin he has ever seen or will ever see. It is a coin forged from magic.

"You still have time to rest before returning to the base of the hill, but not much," the Water Sprite tells to young Galahad. "You should rest now, but do not delay once the moon rises above the hills to the East. I will watch over you and will awake you when it is time. You will need to gather all of your wits and your strength before facing the Dark Faerie again empty-handed."

Galahad knew she was right, so did as he was told. He laid down upon a soft patch of leaves and grass and slept like a baby until moon rise. When he awoke, he snacked on a simple meal of fruit and nuts provided by the hospitality of the Water Sprite, and began to return to the well at the base of the hill with the dead seed in a clump of wet mud in one hand and a gold coin in his other.


	4. Chapter 4 - Confronting the Dark Faerie

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CHAPTER 4 – CONFRONTING THE DARK FAERIE

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Galahad hardly stopped to rest the whole way down the hill. Throughout the night, he struggled in darkness down the hillside, eager to get back to the well before dawn. Armed with his dead seed and a gold coin, he had one chance to still save his mother and avoid becoming a slave to the Dark Faerie forever. One chance, so long as he was clever enough to pull it off.

It just began to grow light as Galahad finally reached the ground at the base of the hill and rushed to the well. He could see the clouds were a dull blood red from the morning light bouncing off them. He had just enough time to try his plan.

Just as he reached the well, the Dark Faerie suddenly appeared before him. He was smiling.

"Oh, so we have an honest one here!" The Dark Faerie jested at Galahad. "Most people would have just taken a flower from the grove at the top of the hill. You actually returned with the dead seed! Such chivalry! You have earned your title as son of Sir Lancelot, young Galahad." The Dark Faerie smirks with a macabre glee at his praise over the boy's accomplishments.

But Galahad was not to be deterred. "I came back with something else, Dark Faerie." He shows the Dark Faerie the gold coin in his other hand. "By the magic that binds you to the well, once I have completed your task, you must fulfill all of my wishes – is this true?"

The Dark Faerie laughs at him. "It is true, my laddie. But, so long as you can fulfill my request – but I dare say, how can you ask for any more wishes if you cannot fulfill the quest I have given you? Are you not, as your people often say, 'Putting the cart before the horse'? Where's my flower?"

Galahad swallows hard. "You'll get the flower, this I can promise. But you must fulfill my first wish once you have the flower I have promised to give you. You won't go back on your word, will you Dark Faerie?"

The Dark Faerie is chuckling at the bluster and bravado of the boy, but starts to feel a slight itch of worry. The Dark Faerie looks at the coin, curious as to what kind of wish the boy could ask for. The Dark Faerie has made such a good living off of cheating others, he was suddenly left wondering how anyone could cheat him back? Didn't he carry all the power, the ability to bargain and manipulate? Even amid his curse, didn't he have the power to grant wishes, even under impossible conditions? The Dark Faerie decided to see this out, the sheer joy of some real entertainment after ages of sitting ignored in the well overriding his growing sense of foreboding.

The Dark Faerie finally answers. "Of course, boy. It is the power of the magic that binds me to the well that will ensure that." He savors the moment to the last, then calls on Galahad's wish. "Alright – so it is another wish, then? What makes you think that a second wish will undo the conditions of the first? What makes you think that I won't still make you pay up what you owe me, even if you try to wish your way out of the bargain now? If you can't make the flower grow, any wish you can think of now would never come true anyways, for you never fulfilled my quest for the first wish in the first place." It is a quandary that, as those who are yet to be born will say, is a Catch-22.

The Dark Faerie almost starts to feel pity for the ill-fated hero before him. "Why don't you just give up and just accept my offer and be my slave? At least you can serve me with a clear conscience, since you at least didn't try to cheat me like those other little brats in here did. I can even make you their boss – you've earned it. What do you say?" The Dark Faerie leans towards Galahad, daring him to think up a wish that will never come true in the final moments of freedom he may ever know.

Galahad shakes his head, and buries the wet clump of dirt with the seed in it beside the old well. He takes the gold coin and tosses it into the well and stares hard into the eyes of the Dark Faerie as he speaks his wish.

"I wish that you bring this seed back to life."

The Dark Faerie's eyes grow wide. The solution is so obvious to him now. He had totally ignored the possibility that the boy would actually just wish for the seed to come to life. He knew that Galahad had carried some of the magical waters in the soil surrounding the seed he just planted. He also knew the rule of the Old Ways – only Life can beget Life, so a life must be forfeit for life to return to anything. So, the Dark Faerie is bound to fulfill the second wish after all, since it will actually complete Galahad's quest – and at the cost of the Dark Faerie's own life too! The Dark Faerie has been betrayed by his own arrogance and shortsightedness, and is powerless to stop the magic now. He is about to scream a curse upon the boy, but the magic takes hold and the seed starts to come back to life as a wispy flow of life energy starts to ebb from the Dark Faerie's body.

The Dark Faerie shrieks and starts to melt, his ooze dripping into the ground and is soaked up into the ball of dirt at the base of the well. As the Dark Faerie dies, the seed comes back to life, just as the wish commanded. The water from the spring at the top of the hill invigorates the seed to sprout just as the first light hits its pedals. As the first full rays of the morning sun break over the crests of the nearby hills to the East, a beautiful blood-red and purple flower is there at the base of the well to greet them.

 _"And Galahad's first wish was finally granted."_

 _Merlin smiled as the kids all cheered at the cleverness and victory of young Galahad._

 _"Yes, my lads and lasses. After that day, young Galahad soon got news of his mother's recovery, and for a small time all was well again. And as for the flower by the old well, there are now many of them there now, and they continue to grow by the old well every Spring to this day – and that is also why they are called Dark Faeries by your parents."_

 _The kids nod to each other, wiser for the knowledge that there is a story behind the name of the dark flowers that bloom by the old well in their village. They are also in awe that the famous Sir Galahad grew up in the same valley they are living in now._

 _Merlin could see the parents were now looking for their kids to feed them their dinner, so he sought to conclude his story._

 _"But all didn't stay well for the young Sir Galahad. As he grew up, he had to face many trials. He even became one of the greatest knights of the Round Table – but that is a story for another time."_

 _Old Man Merlin smiled as the kids groaned at the unexpected cliffhanger. Moms and dads were gathering around the children and giving out orders to bid the old storyteller a good evening and come home for dinner and bed. Some of the parents thanked the old man for his services with coins and food, and he graciously accepted them. Everyone knew that he lived alone, and was unable to provide for himself if it weren't for his storytelling to occupy the children of the village while the parents worked to make their livings. At least that was what the townsfolk believed, and Merlin was happy to oblige and keep it that way for now._

 _The kids were corralled, one by one, by their parents and Merlin soon found himself again alone by the dying embers of the fire he had started only a few hours ago. He smiled to himself, stretched and yawned, and started to return to his small home. He also needed to get some dinner and some sleep._

 _"Yes," Merlin mumbled to himself, half dreaming of the many memories that still filled his bright and powerful mind. "A story for another time."_

THE END.


End file.
